What we conceived was a value for X, disambiguated
perhaps, as we gathered upon an urban balcony
which was, itself, like light above standing water.
A solo cello accompanied us through a slider
left open as we elected to ponder the dusk
illuminate falling upon distance and its brown hills.
Sweat collected on our breastplates and with it left
a residue of distraction and sexual fantasy and plain,
dank love. Some of us drank water. Some of our hearts
beat wildly in our chests and may have been target
to schemes wholly undetected by ourselves or the minutia
of our existences. For a moment I paused to see this
as my heart now beat against the thought of it
and our lives expanded toward something surely elseish.
rdking